


You Don't Need To Know

by Lurkinginthecorner



Category: Hunger Games (2012) RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, jennifer lawrence - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkinginthecorner/pseuds/Lurkinginthecorner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Morning sickness? Or motion sickness... I mean, if there’s something you wanna tell me, maybe now is not the best place or the best platform for this...” He couldn't be closer to the truth. A truth Jennifer had hoped would stay buried in her heart forever, sparing him the pain she had been dealing with in secret for almost a year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Need To Know

**Author's Note:**

> There is a trigger warning for this piece, but for spoiler reasons, I don't want to show it at the beginning of the story. Scroll down to the end notes if you wish to look it up before reading.
> 
> Also, this is a standalone piece unrelated to any of my previous stories, and slightly AU-ish.

_Los Angeles, November 8 th, 2013_

“Jena and I both had our... morning sickness bracelets on...”

I don’t even realize the unfortunate slip up I just made until Josh catches my attention by leaning his face closer to mine and cutting me right in the middle of my sentence.

“Morning sickness? Or motion sickness...” he says on a teasing tone. I look down in shame, trying to force a smile as my heart starts to beat faster with the added stress of what I just implied. Fortunately for me, the crowd of reporters in the room just burst out laughing.

“I mean,” he adds, his face twisted into a huge smile, “if there’s something you wanna tell me, maybe now is not the best place or the best platform for this...”

It barely registers in my mind that he’s just made things worse by giving out a giant clue that our relationship hasn’t been as sibling-like as what we’ve been telling the press relentlessly over the past few months. That his automatic assumption that I could have been pregnant, and by him, outs the hidden romantic relationship we’ve pursued since we got a lot closer while filming _Catching Fire_ last year.

No, the only thought invading my mind at the moment, is how close to figuring out the truth he is. A truth I had never wanted to reveal to him. A truth I had wanted to keep for myself forever, because it was no use getting him involved now.

“That is gonna be... my publicist is like, ‘and this is what I’m gonna be dealing with for the next 24 hours’,” I answer with my best fake smile. “Motion, sickness.”

I focus on the rest of the question and make sure to quickly brush over talk of any kind of sickness as I formulate a coherent answer, while too acutely aware of Josh’s heavy gaze stuck on me. When the next reporter asks a question to somebody else and the attention of the room shifts away from us, Josh leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Seriously... is there something I should know?”

I look at him with wide eyes, trying to hide my panic as best as I can, shaking my head violently, before bringing my mouth as close to his ear as possible so the microphone doesn’t pick up my answer.

“No.”

I just hope he doesn’t push it further. He’s better off not knowing.

 

* * *

 

 

_Atlanta, October 15th, 2012_

I’m standing still as Ve applies the finishing touches to my makeup. The bright spots in the hangar where we’ll be filming today are blinding me, and I have to fight hard to keep my eyes open.

“Don’t move, Jennifer,” she warns me with a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

I focus on my posture as she runs the brush all over my face, tickling my skin, which makes me smile.

“There,” she says, her gaze switching from my face to a point behind me in the distance. “Josh’s turn, now.”

I turn around and spot him walking to us, wearing a brown suit with leather accents on the sleeves of the jacket. His golden hair shines under the lights, and his large grin makes him impossibly handsome. As he gets closer to us, the warm feeling in my chest that I’ve started to notice more and more these days grows stronger.

I’m still staring at him with what must look like a silly smile when he stops in front of me.

“You know, I love that dress,” he says, looking me up and down. “It fits you perfectly.”

“Thank you,” I reply, looking down at the shiny blue fabric and smoothing the skirt reflexively in an attempt to hide the foolish emotions his compliments trigger in me.

I look back up as Ve picks up some powder on her brush and starts applying it to his face. I lean my head on her shoulder, my eyes finding his instinctively. I know I shouldn’t stare, but it’s useless. I’m hopelessly drawn to him, like a bee to a flower.

“Do I have something on my face or what?” he asks with gritted teeth, trying to stand still.

“Why?” I ask.

“I don’t know. You’re looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Is there someone else behind me?”

“No.”

I hear him say something in response, but I’m too lost in the depth of his hazel eyes, too overwhelmed by the beauty of his smile, too entranced by the deep sound of his voice to pay any attention to the actual words coming out of his mouth.

“Jen?”

I finally straighten up, snapping out of my thoughts just as quickly as I got distracted in the first place.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out.” My gaze travels from Ve’s face to Josh’s. “Can I try it?”

Ve grins, nods and hands me the brush. I pretend to be serious as I apply the powder all over Josh’s face. Somehow, I love playing with him, touching him – even if it’s just with the tip of a brush – making him blush.

And judging by the charming smile he’s giving me, he loves it just as much. God, I feel so good when I’m with him.

“Okay,” Ve says, snatching the brush from my hand, “I think he’s fine like this, don’t you think?”

She winks at me. I look down shyly, before raising my gaze up slowly to meet Josh’s teasing eyes.

“Yes, I think he is,” I whisper.

“Good.”

She’s quick to leave us alone. Subconsciously, I find myself closing some of the distance between Josh and me. I really can’t keep my eyes off him, and he’s still studying me with the same playful gaze.

I really want to tell him what I did yesterday. But I’m too nervous to utter a word, or I simply don’t know where to start. I know it’s ridiculous, as he has no reason to be uncomfortable by this news, but somehow, it makes me feel stressed.

Maybe because I have a strong feeling it will lead to confessions I’m not sure I’m ready to make yet.

All of a sudden, he looks around, grabs my hand and pulls me behind a panel, away from prying eyes.

“What’s on your mind, Jen?” he asks in a low voice, his hand still clutching mine.

I slowly lift my head to look back into his soft but insisting gaze, and I crack.

“I broke up with Nick last night.”

His face falls, and he quickly lets go of my hand.

“Oh... I’m sorry.” He slides his hands around my waist and pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. I lock my arms around his neck and rest my cheek on his shoulder, enjoying his comforting embrace. “But why did you do that?”

I pull away just a little, just enough to see the sadness and concern in his eyes.

“It was a long time coming. I didn’t love him the way I used to.”

He shakes his head sadly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No, there’s something else.”

I sigh.

“I found out... a few days ago...” I shake my head and look down, before whispering. “I can’t.”

He cups my face to force me to look at him. There’s an urgency in his gaze that I’ve never seen before.

“What? What did you find out?”

“He... he was cheating on me.” I’m tempted to give him more details on how I found out, but in the end, I decide against it. “I tried to confront him about it last night, but he lied to my face. Until I told him what I knew... and then he confessed.”

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine.

“I’m so sorry, Jen,” he murmurs, making me shiver. “You deserve so much better.”

“No.”

“Oh yes, you do.”

I bite my lip.

“I haven’t been doing any better, Josh. You know it as well as I do.”

He pulls away, his fingers traveling down the sides of my face, and frowns.

“What do you mean?”

My heart starts beating faster in anticipation. I know what’s coming. But it never crossed my mind that he didn’t have a clue already. It’s not as if I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve, though.

“You don’t know?” I ask suspiciously. “You never noticed?”

“What should I have noticed?”

He really looks confused. I take a deep breath.

“I may not have cheated on him physically... but I did it with my heart. It’s just as bad, Josh.”

“You... you love someone else?” he asks in a low voice.

“I’m not sure I can call it loving yet but... yeah.”

He smiles.

“And you didn’t tell me? Who is it?”

The stress is slowly turning into fear. I know I’ve already said too much. I can’t back off anymore. But I just don’t know how to tell him that he’s the one who’s made my heart flutter for months. He’s the one I think of before I fall asleep at night. He’s the one I get so excited to see at work every morning.

He’s the one whose arms I crave every day, every night.

And so I decide to act rather than talk. I pull his face to mine and gently press my lips against his. At first, he doesn’t respond, but then I feel a delicious pressure on my mouth and the delightful sensation of his tongue licking my lips. I quickly open my mouth to welcome him in, and as he pulls me closer to him, I wrap my arms around his neck tightly.

When we finally part for air, he keeps rubbing my back with his hands, and I lean my head on his shoulder, careful not to burrow my face in his costume so he doesn’t get makeup smudged all over it. He gently caresses my hair and I feel him drop a light kiss on the top of my head.

“You mean that... I’m the one you have feelings for?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Don’t you too?”

“I most definitely do,” he sighs. “But it’s too dangerous, you know that.”

“We can be quiet. We can hide.” I lift my head from his shoulder and take in his lovely face, the glint in his eyes, the flushed color of his lips. I delicately run a finger down his cheek and he nods.

“That’s really what you want?” he asks.

“That’s what I want.”

He bites his lip.

“But...” I say, suddenly remembering that I wasn’t the only one who went on a date last night. “The girl you went to the theater with last night...”

He’s quick to shake his head.

“Don’t worry about that. She’s just a friend.”

“Really? You looked awfully cozy with her.”

His mouth twists into a teasing smile.

“Are you jealous?”

“No!” I exclaim, before lowering my tone when I remember we’re not technically alone. “It’s just that... I thought she might be your girlfriend or something.”

“Well, maybe I had some fun last night in my bedroom...”

“Josh!” I playfully hit his chest.

“Let me finish!” he says, holding back a laughter. His face quickly gets serious. “I thought you would do the same with him when you came back from the theater.”

I shake my head.

“Nope. Instead, I had an argument and a break-up. But I’m glad it’s behind me. It was a long time coming. I don’t want to think about him anymore.”

“Great. Well like I said, she’s just a friend. A friend I had fun with, if you see what I mean, but still that. Just a friend.”

I nod.

“Okay.”

He lifts my chin up with his fingers and speaks in a low voice that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

“Hey. Let’s just see where this leads us, okay? No stress. We’ll just have to be careful.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

We barely have time to shut the door of his bedroom before he’s pulling me to him and capturing my mouth with his lips. It’s raw, it’s savage, it’s more than a year of sexual tension build-up bursting all at once in a mix of moans, pants, wandering hands and lip-smacking sounds.

We part only long enough for him to pull his t-shirt over his head. Soon, he’s slipping his fingers under my tank top and removing it, exposing my naked breasts to him. He sighs and burrows his face in the crook of my neck while running his soft hands all over the expanse of my back. I grasp a fistful of his golden hair, craning my head as the light kisses he drops all over my throat drive me crazy with desire, and he pulls me backwards until we reach his bed.

I can’t have enough of him.

I open my eyes so I can make out his features in the dimly-lit room. He’s staring at me with dark, lust-filled eyes, his gaze roaming my whole body hungrily. His fingers travel down my back until they find purchase into the fabric of my jeans. He slides his hands around my waist until he reaches the button at the front of my pants, and I nod quietly, cupping his face once again to kiss him some more.

As soon as my pants are on the floor, he quickly works on removing his, finally standing before me clad only in his boxers, his erection straining the fabric.

“You’re so gorgeous, Jen...” he whispers, closing the distance between us and leaning in to trace the side of my face with his lips, until he reaches my ear and starts nibbling on my earlobe. I sigh as the tickling sensation turns into a spark that lights up my whole body with arousal.

“Did you need to see me naked to figure it out?” I say, teasingly.

“I’ve always known,” he replies, his husky voice rumbling on my skin launching another wave of pleasure down my spine. “But as much as I pictured you naked, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how stunning you are.”

I press my whole body against his flesh, trying to quench this thirst I have for the contact of his skin on mine. His hands fly across my upper body, and in a second, he has me lying on his bed, pinned beneath his bulky chest.

His warm breath on my neck is gonna be the death of me. As my mind gets cloudy and my senses are overwhelmed by his mouth tasting every inch of me, I suddenly have a flash and force him to stop.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask in a whisper, to which he answers with a light nod. I relax some more, close my eyes and focus on the whirlwind of sensations his lips, tongue and hands are bringing to my body as he slowly makes his way down my chest, leaving a trail of kisses and caresses in his wake. Now that the initial urge to devour each other’s bodies has been satisfied, every one of his moves is careful, every touch seems choreographed. It doesn’t matter that it’s our first time together. We just click, like two pieces of a puzzle that have been waiting forever to be put into place.

And I can’t wait for him to complete me, for his face to hover over mine as he thrusts into me gently, then more roughly in rhythm with his grunts, the beads of sweat glistening down his temples, his breathtaking eyes locked on mine.

He slides back up to me and traps my mouth in a long kiss. I take my time exploring the muscles of his strong back with my hands, his skin soft under my fingertips. When our lips part, I smile and push him on his back, lifting a leg over his hips to straddle him. We’re still wearing our underwear, and so I teasingly rub my center over his bulge through the fabric, making him gasp in surprise.

“You’re gonna make me come, if you keep going,” he says. “Come on.”

I wink and tug on his boxers to finally catch a glimpse of his cock. As I grab it in my palm, running my hand up and down slowly to get the feel of it, I look up at him. He has a shy smile on his face, and I keep rubbing his flesh while I slide up to the headboard to drop a tender kiss on his mouth.

“Quite impressive, I guess,” I say. He returns my smile, and stretches to open the drawer of his bedside table to fetch the condom. As he tears open the package and covers his length with the protection, I climb off him, take my own underwear off and kneel back on the bed behind him, pressing my front against his back while dropping kisses on his shoulder and stroking his chest. When he’s done, he twists towards me, snakes his arms around my waist and lifts me over him, pressing his lips against mine before pushing me lightly on my back and positioning himself at my entrance.

My breath catches in my throat as anticipation fills me, and he softly caresses my forehead, pushing aside a stray of brown hair.

“Ready?” he whispers. I nod.

In a second, he’s entered me. And it feels good, incredibly good. At first, like I thought, he’s gentle, studying my face carefully to make sure I’m getting used to this new, foreign presence without any pain. My smile tells him he can go on, and so he starts thrusting deeper, accompanying his moves with slow kisses that remind me this is not just for physical pleasure. This is not just two friends fucking.

He has feelings for me. And I have feelings for him. And we’re having a moment, a deep connection that I wouldn’t want to share with anyone else. It’s surprising how serious we both get, given our usual silly behavior towards one another. I realize I’m discovering a side of him I didn’t know.

I lift my legs higher and wrap them around his torso, gently pushing so he finds himself even closer to me. He responds by picking up pace, which makes me moan in return. The faster he goes, the deeper he thrusts, the louder my cries of pleasure get.

“Oh, Jen,” he says, dropping his face in the crook of my neck to pepper my skin with kisses. “You feel so good.”

I close my eyes to concentrate on the pleasant sensations I feel all over my body under his touch. He’s getting more feral with time, more passionate, and I love it.

Suddenly, I feel him thrust much, much deeper, and he collapses against my body as he rides the high of his orgasm. I cup the back of his head and sigh. He doesn’t waste time in lifting his head back up, realizing that I haven’t come yet. This is when I feel his hand wander down my lower body. His thumb quickly finds my clit, rubbing circles on my swollen flesh, and he fucks me with his fingers to the point of having me thrashing and shaking on the mattress until I cry out his name as my own orgasm washes over me.

When I finally open my eyes, he has already disposed of the condom and is pressed against my body, staring at me, head propped on one elbow, a smug smile lighting up his whole face. He brushes a finger down my breast, making me shiver in return. When he takes in my own satisfied expression, the larger-than-life grin that likely highlights my whole face, he leans in and pecks my lips lightly.

“So...” he starts.

“So, what?”

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?”

“I sure did,” I wink, curling up against his chest and falling asleep for a too short night, the first of many that I would spend in the comfort of his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

_Atlanta, November 19 th, 2012_

“Fuck, I’m gonna throw up,” I say in a low voice, pushing my way towards the edge of the platform I’m standing on as we’re getting ready to film. The crew part ways to let me pass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I quickly unfasten my harness and jump off the giant merry-go-round stage that’s the spinning Cornucopia set and run right into Justine, who just grabbed a nearby bucket and is holding it in front of me while I puke my guts out.

“This thing is hard on the stomach, right,” she says, and I nod, wiping my mouth when the retching subsides at last. I walk to a tent to grab a bottle of water, remove the cap and take a gulp to rinse my mouth. I spit the water on the ground and take a deep breath, turning around to face my friend, who has followed me there.

“Yeah. It is,” I say, clearing my throat. “Those stupid bracelets are a rip-off. It doesn’t help at all.”

“Well... they look like they work for Jena,” she remarks, pointing at my costar who’s laughing with the boys on the slowly rotating platform.

“Lucky her. I wish it would work for me too.” I scan the set with my eyes, looking for Josh among the people still standing on the platform. When I finally spot him, our gazes meet briefly, and I see concern etched on his face. “Oh, well, in a few days it will be over.”

She remains strangely silent, until I turn to face her and take in her questioning face, forcing her to speak her mind.

“You’re stronger than that, though.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t understand. I’ve always had a pretty strong stomach when I went to the amusement park. I could do that teacup ride for hours. That stupid spinning platform should be a piece of cake.”

“It’s spinning pretty fast though. You don’t feel it when you’re standing on it, but from the side, it’s quite impressive.”

I shrug.

“Yeah. I guess.”

I lift the bottle to my mouth and swallow a few gulps of water.

“Ugh, that thing tastes gross.” I stare at the bottle, as if it could give me a hint as to why it tastes like metal. Justine grabs a small bottle of apple juice from the table and hands it to me.

“Here,” she says, watching me as I gulp down its contents in a few seconds.

“Thank you,” I say when the bottle is emptied. “It’s much better.”

Francis makes his way to me, looking concerned.

“Are you okay? Do you need a break, or something?”

“No, no. I’ll be fine. I just...” I stop dead in my tracks as a cramp in my lower abdomen surges, spreading through my whole body. When it finally passes, I do my best to reassure him. “I just needed to calm my stomach a little bit. And apparently, I’m about to have my period too, so I’m having to deal with cramps on top of that. I’m gonna take some Tylenol and I’ll be alright.”

“Okay. Take your time,” he adds with a wink, patting my shoulder and walking back to his station.

Justine is already digging in her purse for the medicine, while I start to wonder when I’m supposed to have my next period. It seems like it’s been a while since I last had it.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I seem to remember that I finished my pack of pills, expecting to have my period any day, until it went off my mind with the busy, stressful days on set.

And I definitely haven’t had it since. But I know it might just be the stress, working hard over this specific period of time.

“You look thoughtful,” Justine remarks, as she hands me the painkillers and another bottle of juice. “Anything on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how long it’s been since I had my period.”

She looks at me with wide eyes. I quickly break the tension.

“Oh, come on. It’s great. I think I haven’t had it since... beginning of October? So at least a month and a half. It’s not the first time I’m stressed out and I skip a cycle.”

My relief is cut short by another powerful cramp that has me grabbing the handle of a trailer door until it passes.

“I really was doing much better without it,” I note, taking a deep breath to relax a little bit. “It was a blessing.”

But as much as I want to ignore the obvious, I can’t refuse to acknowledge that these cramps are unusual.

“Jen...” Justine says, biting her lip anxiously. “Forgive me for asking this, but... is there a chance that you could be... you know...” she leans in and whispers. “Pregnant?”

“No, of course not! I’m on the pill, and... and we used... well, we used condoms too.”

She lifts an eyebrow.

“Every time?”

I look away, unable to face her gaze.

 

* * *

 

 

_Atlanta, October 22 nd, 2012_

Josh looks irresistible in the white suit he has to wear for the interview scene. Today, we’re filming the last takes of that sequence of the movie, and Josh will also have his own photoshoot for a batch of posters that will be released in the coming months. I already posed for these yesterday in my massive wedding gown costume.

It was gorgeous, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to switch to a different, much lighter gown for today’s shoot.

I stare at Josh’s perfect silhouette outlined by the fitted suit, thinking that I just can’t wait to get it off him. Can’t wait to jump on him, feel the warmth of his flesh, listen to his deep, husky voice – the one he only ever uses when he whispers sweet words in my ear - smell the aroma of his skin.

Can’t wait to feel his cock filling me as I ride him, moaning until my voice gets hoarse and he collapses in contentment, wrapping his arms around my body in a possessive embrace.

And so as soon as we’re allowed to change from our costumes for the lunch break and Josh gets out of the dressing room wearing his own clothes, I pull him with me in our trailer.

I don’t want to waste any second. I want him. And I want him now.

And judging by the darkness of his lust-filled eyes, he wants it too.

The minute we’ve got the door locked behind us, he yanks my pants down, unfastens his belt buckle, and pulls me to him, cupping my ass to lift me on a counter. He quickly buries his face in my neck, lighting my whole body on fire with a trail of hot, burning kisses. He covers every inch of my skin he can get to, before tugging on my top to force me to pull it over my head. There’s an urgency in his moves that mirrors the way I’m feeling right now, and it arouses me even more.

I cross my legs around his waist to pull him closer as his mouth frantically searches for mine. The tip of my breasts brushes against the fabric of his t-shirt, and I detach my lips from his just long enough to let him take it off. I need the contact of his skin on mine, I want to melt in his arms, feel like we’re connecting.

As I slide an arm around his neck, I grab his cock with my other hand and let my butt slide to the edge of the counter, as close as possible so I can help him push his length inside me.

He catches my wrist at the last second.

“Fuck, do you have a condom?” he asks, panting, his hand gently prying my fingers off his cock, which he in turn keeps far away from my entrance.

“Not here,” I say, locking my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m on the pill. And I know you’re clean.”

He studies me for a moment, before nodding and finally entering me, slowly, teasingly, a fire burning bright in his eyes. I let out a sharp gasp, and he starts thrusting faster, filling the trailer with the sound of slapping flesh and the echo of our moans. It feels so much better to sense him inside me, without any barrier, without any impediment.

And I trust him. Fully. Hopefully, he does too.

I let out a whimper when he starts pushing deeper and using his finger to circle my clit at the same time.

And when he slows down, his gaze locked on mine, I feel complete.

I feel happy.

This is where I belong.

And then, in a shudder, he comes, emptying himself deep into my vagina. I focus on his short breath, on the faint smell of his body wash remaining on the skin of his chest that’s just under my nose, and on the sight of his well coiffed hair, a few strands flying away as he looks down to regain his composure. And with the help of his skilled fingers, a few seconds later, I come too, in a loud cry of pleasure that Josh is quick to swallow with his mouth to make sure no one hears us.

We’ve been good in the last week at hiding our multiple trysts, meeting at our rental houses every night after shooting wraps up, sneaking away between takes to indulge in stolen kisses, and now, taking advantage of lunch break and a shared trailer to get it on for a quickie. Only Andre and Justine know about us.

I drop a kiss on top of Josh’s head as he hugs me tightly.

After that, we don’t bother to use a condom anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

_Atlanta, November 19 th 2012_

“We used to use condoms,” I confess in a low voice. “But I’m on the pill, there’s no way I’m pregnant.”

“Did you take them all carefully? You know they’re low-hormone pills, you have to take them at the same time every day.”

“I know, Ms Wannabe Pharmacist,” I laugh. “I did take them all at the same time. At least... I think?”

She shakes her head and looks around, making sure no one is paying attention to us.

“Okay,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Look, I’m gonna buy you a pregnancy test tonight, okay? You take it. It’s probably gonna be negative but... you just wanna get this out of your mind.”

I let out a deep sigh and shrug.

“Okay,” I reply, my eyes again landing on Josh, who’s staring at me in confusion. “I swear though, it’s nothing. I just skipped a cycle. Happens all the time.”

“Then, that’s good, if it’s just that.”

I nod, and brace myself for another cramp. I can’t wait for the meds to kick in.

 

* * *

 

 

“How does that thing work?”

Justine shakes her head with a smile that she probably means to be reassuring. I’m trying to look impassive, but inside, I’m overwhelmed by fear. I have a bad feeling the result will not be the one I’m hoping for.

“You just pee on the stick, you toss it on the counter and you wait 5 minutes for the result. I even got you one of those digital thingies. It will tell you the result with words. Easy.”

I nod, grab the box and lock myself in the bathroom of my rental house, my heart beating furiously in response to my anxiety. I’m shaking as I tear open the box, examine the large, white stick that’s inside and go over the instructions to make sure I do it right. I don’t want to leave anything to chance. I want to get this over with, make sure the answer I get is final.

I finally remove the blue cap and position myself to pee on the tip, trying as best as I can to avoid making a mess of it. After I’ve waited the instructed amount of time, I notice that the tip has turned pink and I put the cap back into place, staring at the little grey screen where an hourglass icon is flashing while the results are being processed. When I’m done relieving myself, I flush the toilet, wash my hands carefully and pace the bathroom, before I start getting on my own nerves and decide to sit on the edge of the bathtub. I start swinging back and forth nervously, and take a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart. It’s no use getting all worked up if it’s negative, right? And it will be. It has to be.

I cannot have a baby right now. I just can’t. It would ruin my life.

And Josh’s. Oh, God.

But I must be worrying for nothing. I get up and take a quick look at the stick, but the result is still being processed.

And then, the word appears before my eyes and my heart stops.

PREGNANT

The “Not” didn’t show up. Pregnant. I’m pregnant. I hide my face in my hands as I feel desperate tears flooding my eyes. I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. There’s a tightening sensation in my chest that makes me suffocate for a while.

There’s a tiny baby growing inside me. Josh’s baby, undoubtedly. It’s too soon obviously, and I’m not ready, we’re too young, I have to focus on my career.

But that baby is there now. Because I’ve been stupid. I neglected to take some of my pills at the right time. And now...

Oh, God. How will I tell him? How could I possibly tell him that our careers are over because I’ve been careless?

He trusted me. And I betrayed his trust.

I slide down the counter and hide my face in my knees, weeping softly. After a while, I jump when I hear Justine’s gentle voice calling me on the other side of the door.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I reply in what I hope is a steady voice.

“Did the test work?”

I wipe my eyes, stand up and walk to the door, opening it slowly to face an inquisitive Justine. As soon as she takes in my crying face, she understands.

“Oh, Jen...” she says, pulling me into her arms for a big hug. “I take it it’s positive?”

I can only shake my head up and down lightly to confirm the news. She rubs her hand over my back, hopelessly trying to reassure me.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay. You’ll find a solution.”

I pull away and stare at her.

“I know the logical choice is to have an abortion. But I can’t... I don’t want to. But I don’t know what to do...”

“Shhh...” she says. “Wait until you’ve talked with Nick about this.”

“Nick? Why would I...” I don’t understand why she’s suggesting that I talk to Nick, until what she’s implying hits me like a ton of bricks. I shake my head frantically. “Ju, it’s not Nick’s. It can’t be Nick’s. I haven’t had sex with him for months. It’s Josh’s.”

“Oh.” She nods.

I look down in shame, my gaze stopping on my midsection.

“You don’t have to tell him right now,” she adds, her voice soft, comforting. “Wait until the news has sunk in. It’ll be easier.”

“Yes. I think that’s what I’ll do. Thanks for being here with me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She gives me a small smile.

“It’s nothing.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Los Angeles, November 8 th, 2013_

“What’s on your mind, hun?”

I look up from my casual resting place on Josh’s chest to take in his concerned eyes. There’s no playfulness to them; he’s dead serious, and it makes me somewhat uncomfortable. As my heart starts racing in my chest, I swallow thickly, and look down at the fine line of hair running between his pecs. We’re lying on his bed, both of us completely exhausted by the long press day we’ve just gone through, and we’re facing another long one ahead of us tomorrow before flying out to Europe for a week of premieres, press conferences, interviews and photocalls.

“Nothing.” I hate lying to him. But I can’t tell him the truth. I had hoped he would never find out. And it’s getting obvious now that he has figured out already that I’m keeping something from him. As hard as I tried to downplay my frightened reaction to a hypothetical pregnancy earlier today at the press conference, he knows me much better. He’s been my best friend for more than two years now, and my secret lover for over a year, ever since that October day when we confessed our feelings to each other and made a pact that we’d give a try to a relationship, moving mountains to keep it private, even going as far as faking other relationships to keep the attention away from us. It’s worked wonderfully well so far.

But if he finds out what happened... it will break everything between us. Crush his heart beyond repair. Push him away from me forever.

I can’t afford that.

“Jen...” he whispers, gently caressing my hand. I lay my head on his chest, looking away from his stare. “You really looked upset at the press conference. I’m sorry, I messed up, hopefully no one will take the hint and they’ll just laugh at your slip up. No big deal. And you can be sure our publicists will do whatever they can to make sure no one implies we’re in a relationship, okay?”

I nod. He’s giving me a good reason to justify my unease. I’m relieved that my secret is still safe. I don’t want him to suffer from it.

I’m the only one who should suffer for it.

 

* * *

 

 

_Honolulu, December 9 th, 2012_

20 days. I’ve been living with the secret of my pregnancy for almost three weeks now. At first, I tried to push it at the back of my mind, to forget that I will soon have to find a solution to deal with this issue that has been plaguing my every thought ever since the loaded word flashed before my eyes in my Atlanta bathroom.

A problem that’s growing inside my belly and making my heart ache with every passing day. The truth is that, although the timing is awful, I’m getting used to the idea of becoming a mother. I feel my heart swell with pride at the idea of bearing Josh’s child. I begin picturing myself with a little baby in my arms. I’m slowly getting accustomed to the subtle changes in my body, the heavy cramps forcing me to stop and take a deep breath, the nausea slowly receding.

I just haven’t found the courage to tell Josh yet, despite all the time we’ve spent together off set.

So far, I’ve been pretty good at hiding the whole thing. Blaming my throwing up on the spinning Cornucopia, the food, or the intense physical activity level required on set. Sneakily switching alcoholic drinks for juice and soft drinks in our multiple parties. Long shooting days providing an excellent excuse for the naps I allow myself to take in my trailer in the middle of the day, Josh waking me up with kisses when it’s time to resume filming.

Only Justine still knows.

This morning, our only off-day for the whole week, I’m taking the opportunity to sleep in, curled up against Josh’s solid body. I’m woken up by a new episode of strong cramps, and when I get in the bathroom for my morning pee, my breath catches in my throat upon casting a glance at my underwear.

It’s drenched in blood.

“No... oh no!” I let out in a low voice, hiding my face in my hands. I sit still for a moment, trying to clear my head of the negative thoughts invading my mind at the worrying sight of blood pouring out of my body.

It takes me a few minutes to regain my senses, calm down from the panic, and figure out the only thing I can do.

I quickly wash myself, walk into the bedroom to get clean panties and my robe, and take a rapid look at the bed. Fortunately, I didn’t stain the white sheets.

I grab my phone on the bedside table and walk back to the bathroom so I can have some privacy. I sit back on the toilet and call my best friend.

“Jen?” Justine’s sleepy voice says. “What’s up?”

“Ju... I need you,” I reply, my voice slightly shaky. “Come to my place, okay?”

“You’re worrying me now. What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you. Just... come here. And... can you bring me pads?”

“Pads?” She hitches a breath. “Jen... you’re bleeding?”

“Come quickly, okay?” I reply, my voice breaking at the end. I hang up, toss the phone on the counter and hide my face in my hands, this time not holding back my tears.

I’m not naive. I know this is not normal.

I run a hand over my flat belly.

“I’m so sorry, baby bun,” I whisper in the middle of my sobs. “Hang on. Please, hang on.”

A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with a text.

JUSTINE: I’m at your door. I figured you might be with Josh and not want me to wake him up.

I smile amidst my tears. She’s so thoughtful.

I walk to the door and open it, motioning for her to follow me to the bathroom. I close the door behind us, sit on the toilet and sigh as she digs into her bag for the pads I asked her for.

“Here,” she says, handing me the plastic-wrapped pad. I don’t waste time in unpacking it and lining my underwear with it. “I’ve made you an appointment in a clinic. Are you still bleeding a lot?”

“It doesn’t look so bad so far,” I say. “It just didn’t stop. And once in a while I have cramps.”

“Okay. Let’s grab some breakfast on the road and we’ll go.”

I nod, before getting up from the toilet, walking in my bedroom and grabbing my clothes to get dressed for the day. I stare at Josh, who has rolled on his tummy and is still sleeping soundly, his arms resting up over his head.

Like a baby, I think, my heart tightening in my chest.

I briefly consider waking him up to tell him I’m going, but I decide against it. I walk to the kitchen, retrieve a small piece of paper, and write a message on it that I leave on his cell phone as I walk back into the bedroom one last time before leaving.

Honey,

I have something to do this morning. I’ll be back as soon as possible.

Love you. Jen.

I take one last look at his sleepy form, before turning around and following Justine out of the house.

 

* * *

 

 

I wait in the car as Justine makes her way into the clinic. There’s no way I’m walking through the main door of a Honolulu gynecologist clinic and staying inside the waiting room with all the other ladies who have an appointment today; the rumor of my pregnancy would definitely leak and I can’t afford to take that risk.

And so I find myself waiting for Justine’s text telling me to get in through the back door.

When she gives me the signal, I get out of the car, wearing huge sunglasses that give me a semblance of privacy, and I quickly walk to the back door, which an employee readily opens for me.

“Thank you,” I say, keeping the glasses on and following her to a small office. There’s an examining table in the middle, a machine sitting on a cart right next to it, a small table with files and a mountain of papers resting on it, and the walls are covered with information on feminine illnesses, a diagram of the woman’s reproductive organs, information on pregnancy, and an illustration of a baby growing inside the womb.

My eyes get watery at the sight.

Justine enters the room, followed by the doctor, a young-looking woman with blonde hair tied in a ponytail and a beaming smile that seems all but natural.

“So... Jennifer, is that it?” she asks, and I finally take off the sunglasses.

“Yes.”

“When was the date of the start of your last period?” she asks, her gaze lowering down at the file.

“October 4th, I think,” I reply. I figured it out in the days after I learned the shocking news.

“So that would make you...” she grabs a carton circle lined with various dates, and she aligns one of the circles with the date I just gave her. “9 weeks and 3 days. Okay. So you’ve been bleeding?”

“Correct.”

She doesn’t look up as I answer her questions, simply checking things in boxes and writing down information on her paper.

“When did it start?”

“This morning.”

“First time?”

“Yes.”

“First pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

She nods, before getting up and turning towards me, trying hard to give me a reassuring smile.

“Okay. We’ll take a look. Are you comfortable with your friend staying in the room?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Okay. Take off your shorts and lie down on the table, please.”

When I’m ready, she applies some cold gel on my tummy, rolls the machine closer to the table and starts running the probe over my belly. Suddenly, I see the blurry image of my uterus on the screen, with a small bubble attached to one of the sides.

“This is your baby,” she says with a smile. But her smile quickly fades as she presses harder on my belly and the image flashes on the screen. My eyes are locked on it, this little, tiny fleck of life that’s inside me, but dread starts to invade me as I notice the growing concern etching itself on the doctor’s face.

She’s silent, and when she finally drops the probe and hands me paper towels to wipe my tummy, I ask her what’s wrong.

She sighs.

“I’m gonna send you to the hospital for another ultrasound. They have better, more precise equipment.” She bites her lip. “I couldn’t see a heartbeat. But it doesn’t mean there wasn’t one. At that stage, the embryo is really small and it can be hard to pick it up with these old machines. There is still hope.”

Somehow, I know that the impression I had waking up this morning is getting true. I sense it.

My baby is gone.

I put my shorts back on and wait as the doctor calls the hospital and describes to them my situation and heavy need of privacy. After she hangs up, she explains to Justine how to find a back entrance that’s used by the medical personnel and that we will be allowed to use so I don’t cross paths with people.

I know it’s useless. But still, the flicker of hope in my heart hasn’t totally gone off yet.

We spend the whole drive to the hospital in a heavy silence. Justine parks the car near the entrance the doctor talked about, and a nurse lets us in as soon as we reach the door. No one else sees us.

She leads us to the ultrasound room, where I meet a kind female technician who greets us with a warm smile and asks me to lie on the small bed, lifting my shirt up. I get ready, and when she pours the gel and rubs the probe over my belly, I see a bigger image of my uterus on the screen ahead of me, with the small shape still connected to one of the sides. I know, from what my sister-in-law showed me from the time she was pregnant with my nephew, that we’re supposed to see a blinking point on the screen.

But there’s no blinking.

My eyes get teary, and I exchange a pained look with Justine.

“It’s not beating,” I say in a low, sadness-filled voice.

“I will let the doctor diagnose it,” the woman says sadly. “But I don’t see a heartbeat either. I’m sorry.”

I nod, trying to keep the tears from falling out. Soon, a man, who must be the doctor, enters the room, takes a rapid look at the images that have been recorded, sits down next to the bed I’m lying on and gives me a forlorn look.

“Ms Lawrence. You are having a miscarriage. I’m sorry.”

I take in the genuine compassion in his eyes. I know I should be relieved that it’s over, that I won’t have to deal with a baby in the middle of all my commitments for next year. But I had grown attached to the little bun that was growing in my belly. I had made peace with the idea of him or her arriving in my life in a few months.

I was ready to announce to Josh that he would become a father. Now, that is crushed too.

“Now, given your situation,” he adds, “do you want to wait for the expulsion to happen naturally or would you rather have a D&C surgery today?”

I look down.

“Better go with the surgery,” I say with a heavy heart. “I need to get back to work as soon as possible. I’m lucky it happened on my only day off.”

“Okay. I’ll make room for you as soon as I can. Again, I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

I only nod, unable to utter another word.

 

* * *

 

 

I wake up a few hours later lying on a bed with absolutely no memories of what just happened. Justine is sitting next to my bed, totally absorbed by her phone.

“Hey,” she says, looking up. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” I glance around at the white walls surrounding me. “What time is it?”

“A little past noon,” she replies.

“Oh shit... Josh must be wondering what happened?”

“I told him you had another ear infection and went to get antibiotics.”

“Thank you.”

She bites her lip.

“Jen? Are you gonna tell him? About the baby?”

I look down at the green sheet covering my lower body and shake my head slowly.

“No.”

“He deserves to know-“

“I don’t want him to know. It’s useless. I know he would have been ecstatic to become a father. I don’t want him to hurt for nothing.”

“But you, Jen...”

“What, me?” I finally dare to look at her. She’s watching me with a sympathetic gaze.

“You will need support to go through this,” she explains. “And the best person to support you in this hardship is your boyfriend. The father of your little bun.”

“I can’t do this. It’s better for him that he doesn’t know. I don’t want him to know.” I find myself staring at Justine’s disapproval look, and I have no choice but to beg her to meet my demand. “Please, promise me you’ll never tell him.”

She finally nods, albeit reluctantly.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Anyway, it’s not my secret to tell.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Los Angeles, November 9 th, 2013_

I let out a huge yawn, the yellow lighting of the hotel room Josh and I are currently seated in for part of today’s round of press junket interviews for _Catching Fire_ making me particularly sleepy. At the same time, he twists around on his chair to reach for the coffee mug resting on a table behind us. He’s been downing cup after cup in the last couple of days, and I’m glad for it as it keeps his mind sharp and he can save me from looking hopelessly stupid most of the time when I zone out and find myself unable to answer a simple question.

The next interviewer who sits in front of us – a pretty woman with long, wavy dark hair and discreet makeup, wearing a huge, contagious smile on her face – greets us with a raspy voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m just getting my voice back from a throat infection,” she explains as the cameraman adjusts the equipment for filming.

“Oh, I hope you’re getting better!” I say enthusiastically, and she thanks me.

“So,” she starts, “all of your fans would love to see you together. Anything romantic?”

My heart stops in my chest. It’s definitely the bluntest question we’ve had on the subject since the beginning. We’ve been pretty good so far at circling around those very personal questions, putting the spotlight away from our actual relationship, but this time, I’m stunned. I don’t know what to answer.

Thankfully, Josh knows exactly how to play it up, and I jump right in his game.

“Between Josh and Jennifer?” he says on a forced, surprised, almost mocking tone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, in an attempt to make it seem more genuine.

“You didn’t tell them? You guys didn’t see the press release?” he adds on a very sarcastic tone.

“Oh my God, you guys can’t see the sexual tension?” I joke, grabbing Josh by the shoulders and pulling him back and forth playfully.

“There’s a bun in the oven!” he adds, laughing.

I manage to hide the shooting pain in my chest at his words – that he believes are totally innocent – pretty well. But when I share a quick look with him, and I find that he’s noticed the unexpected sadness in my eyes, I understand he’s figured out there’s something serious underneath that seemingly trivial exchange. Something he’s been begging me to reveal to him in the last few hours.

Something I just can’t tell him.

“So it’s purely, brother-sister relationship?” the interviewer asks, sounding a bit disappointed. If only she knew.

“Yes,” we answer in unison, looking everywhere but at her or at each other.

The rest of the interviews pass by in a blur, but in between reporters, I sense the curiosity building in Josh’s eyes. I know he hasn’t let go of his suspicions that something’s wrong. I know he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask me again.

And now, I won’t have a choice but to tell him the truth. To share with him the unnecessary hurt I’ve managed to deal with all by myself for the past year.

When we’re done, I want to be driven to my place, but Josh has other plans.

“Please... come home tonight?” he pleads with his cutest puppy eyes, those he knows I can’t say no to.

I just nod.

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you were upset earlier. I could read it in your eyes. What’s wrong? Is it the fact that we have to hide our relationship from the public? If so, it’s going pretty well so far...”

“No. It’s not that.”

I cuddle closer into Josh’s side, my legs resting under me on one of his living room sofas. He’s sitting with his legs stretched out before him and resting on a low table in front of him. I grab his hand to give myself courage. The steady beat of his heart under my ear calms me somewhat.

“Josh...” I start in a low voice. “You know, yesterday, when I slipped up and talked about morning sickness...” I bite my lip. He sits up straighter and I shake my head sadly. “I’m not pregnant. But I have been. Last year.”

I dare to lift my head up and take in his shocked expression.

“Last year... Nick got you pregnant?” he asks in a soft voice laced with sadness.

“No!” I exclaim, looking down. “It was you.”

“What?” He replies dryly, staring at me with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

I feel the tears well up in my eyes as I recall last year’s events, and the dark period that followed. I see his gaze soften when he takes in my distraught look.

“At first, I wasn’t ready to tell you,” I admit. “But then, after a few weeks, I had made peace with the fact that this baby was here at the moment it was and that we would surely find a solution to make it work. And then...”

He pulls me into his chest, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. I know he has probably guessed what happened, but I need to tell him myself. I need to utter the fateful words. I need to let it go, and then take full responsibility for the events.

“Just as I was ready to tell you...” I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. “I lost it. That day off we had in Hawaii and that I spent away from you... I was at the hospital with Justine having a D&C.”

At first, he’s silent. I chance a glance at him and see that his face has turned ice cold.

“And it never occurred to you that you should tell me?” he asks, anger tainting his voice.

“What was the use? It died, Josh! I killed our baby!” I scream, disentangling myself from his body and standing up, running to the edge of the living room, next to a window that gives a view of the large terrace behind his house. I hide my face in my hands and start sobbing.

“It doesn’t matter. I would have wanted to know. Especially after you found out. How long had you known?”

I sigh.

“About three weeks,” I reply in a shaky voice.

“Three weeks?” he shouts. “You got to spend three weeks with our baby in your belly, and you never even told me! Would you have ever told me if I didn’t figure it out?”

At first, I’m too ashamed to answer.

“Jen?” he asks, his tone even more insisting.

I finally chance a look at him. His face is livid.

“Why don’t you understand, Josh?” I reply, tears now pouring freely from my eyes. “I did it for you! You didn’t need to hurt over this, for nothing. I could suffer for us both. That’s all I deserved anyway. It’s all my fault.”

I barely have time to register that his eyes have lost that angry look as I hurriedly turn away from him, unable to face his gaze any longer. But he’s quick to walk up to me and cup my face to force me to look at him.

“Why do you say that?” he asks in a low voice. “Why do you keep saying you killed our baby?”

“Because...” I look away, unable to bear the weight of his inquisitive stare. “When I found out, I didn’t want it. I knew it was insane, we were too young, we weren’t ready... And then, I wasn’t careful on set. I didn’t tell anybody, except Justine, and I insisted to do all my stunts by myself instead of agreeing to Renae taking my place. If I hadn’t been so proud, if I had been careful, like a good mother...”

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling me into his arms. I bury my face in his neck as he gently cups the back of my head. “You couldn’t know it would end this way. It’s not your fault. I wish you would have told me. Not just because I needed to know that you were carrying my baby, but because I would have wanted to be there, helping you get over it. I’m sad you don’t trust me more than that.”

“It’s not a matter of trust, Josh,” I whisper as he rubs his hand on my upper back in a soothing manner. “I thought I could spare you some pain, and so I did. It’s as simple as that.”

“Don’t you see?” he asks, pulling away so I can see his smile. “I love you. That means I want to be by your side through the best but also the worst.”

I nod.

“I was calling it my little bun,” I say, my voice almost cracking under the weight of the strong emotions invading me. Josh cups my face and runs his thumbs on my cheeks, staring at me with an understanding gaze. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Jen,” he repeats in a soft voice. “You have to let go of that guilt. It might not even have to do with work, you know.”

“But it might.”

“Let go, hun. Let go,” he whispers in my ear, pulling my face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I was shocked. Now I know why you did it. Still, I wish you would have told me. But it’s too late, now. All I can do is help you to move on, from now on.”

My heart gets heavy as I recall the pregnancy test nagging me back in Atlanta. The blood I woke up to in Hawaii. The blurry images of the tiny baby on the screen at the hospital.

I lift my head back up to face his eyes as I admit my deepest regrets.

“I know it wasn’t the right time. And I had never imagined becoming a mother so soon, but I grew attached to it, you know?”

He nods sadly.

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna forget, Josh.”

“And you won’t,” he replies in a soft voice. “We won’t. I promise.”

I plunge my gaze into his, and suddenly, I have an idea.

“There’s something I wanna show you. Hold on.”

I walk to the couch and retrieve my phone on the side table. I browse through the pictures, until I find what I’m looking for. Trembling, I hand it to him, and take in his moved expression, the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as he studies the blue, grainy picture that’s displayed on my phone.

The only tangible memory I have of our baby. Something Justine did for me while I was passed out at the hospital, knowing that one day, I would need it to mourn this little being who came and left our lives too early.

He lifts his gaze up to me and I walk back into his arms.

“It’s the only memory I have of him or her,” I say.

“Thank you, for showing me,” he says in a low voice.

As I pull back, I grace him with a small smile. He presses his forehead against mine and sighs.

“We won’t forget our little bun, okay? And I want to be there with you on this journey. And maybe... one day... maybe soon, who knows... when the timing is better... we could try for real? What do you think?”

I nod.

“I can’t wait.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: This story touches on the subject of miscarriage, and includes a general description of pregnancy bleeding.


End file.
